


The Automaton

by ghostofdarkness



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofdarkness/pseuds/ghostofdarkness
Summary: In an age where humans are on the verge of extinction, the justice system has come up with a way to preserve genetics and terminate life. Bellamy Blake fought to free people from becoming Automatons - human robots without free will, only to find himself becoming one.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

“Octavia, you have to get out of here!” yelled Bellamy as he set off another explosive to try and block the government military from getting into their underground bunker, “I will hold them off while you escape.”

“No, I am not leave you here to die!” Octavia yelled back as he pushed her towards the escape hatch. 

Bellamy grabbed her by the arm, “I can’t lose you too, I need you to live and remain hidden. They can’t know who you are, you need to stay free. Please, O, let me do this.”

Octavia couldn’t stop the tears running down her face and she pulled her brother in for one last embrace, “I love you,” she whispered.

Another explosion rocked the bunker and Bellamy pushed Octavia into the escape hatch and set off the lock explosives to keep the door from being opened again. 

He turned around just in time to see the taser bolt hit him in the chest.  
____________________________________________________________________________

“Bellamy Blake, you have been found guilty of the crime of inciting sedition and treason. Typically, the sentence for these crimes is death but due to your unique physiology, your sentence has been remitted to Automation. You will be fitted with a Control Modulation chip which will reduce you to the state of an Automaton so that your genetic material made be passed on for future generations.”

There was a scream of outrage from the floor which Bellamy knew was from his sister. Death was preferred to the sentence of Automation which was referred to as the “Living Death.” You were alive, you could see your actions but you had no control over them. Automation was the worst punishment imaginable to the freedom fighters and it didn’t surprise Bellamy that this is what his fate would be. He had been fighting to free Automatons for the last ten years, so naturally the State would make an example out of him and turn him into one. 

The was a shuffle in the room and Bellamy found himself quickly ushered out of the courtroom and into an adjoining sterile white room. He was then forced into a chair by four much larger men than he and secured into place. His head was fixed into place. He couldn’t turn to see what was going to happen to him. He had never been so scared in his life. Facing down armed soldiers was less scary than knowing you were about to become a slave.

He felt a pin prick at the back of his neck and then all went dark.  
____________________________________________________________________________

When he woke, he was sitting in a chair once more. He tried to get up but his body would not respond. That’s when he noticed at least four other people in the room that he could see but he could not move his eyes. Waves of sorrow passed through him.

A technician was checking his eyes with a light pen, “Pupil dilation normal.”

“Uploading Automation programming now.”

Bellamy’s visions flashed white and then all at once his body relaxed. He no longer felt the sorrow, fear, or pain he had a moment before. He felt nothing. He was nothing. He watched as the technicians gave him orders, simple things like lifting his hand, standing up, lifting his leg.As they marked down the results on their little clipboards, they commands grew more complex. 

He let himself drift off as though daydreaming. He was present in the moment but yet not. It was like being in a forced state of meditation. 

Then the test were done and he heard, “Automation Mode.” 

He still could not move on his own but felt his body move to the sleeping pod and lay down. He felt his eyes close and then it was dark again.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy returned from oblivion to find himself in a white room looking into the face of a near copy of himself. 

“Hello, Bellamy Blake,” it said in his voice, “I am Automaton 387.”

“You mean my jailer,” grumbled Bellamy.

“In a way, yes, I am the Artificial Intelligence of the User Interface program of the Automation Hardware now installed inside your mind. I have full control over your neural matrix and will be the point of contact for any human interactions your senses encounter. I am only authorized to allow you access to optical and audio input with the exception of coitus.”

“Sex?”

“Yes, due to current limitations in our programming, the Automation system cannot engage in a natural sexual encounter. They have been attempting it for some time but find that the partner always can tell the difference. So to compensate, I am authorized to give you full access to sensory input and allow you to respond naturally.”

“And if I refuse to act?”

“You cannot, we work in partnership. I allow you access to the sensory reception and control the output of your natural reaction. Meaning, you have no choice. That is your punishment, your free will privileges have been revoked.”

“Your design is exactly what I was rebelling against. This truly is a fitting punishment for my crime. I wanted to make free will a right, so they took away mine.”

“Not only that but they have erased you for all records. You now only exist as Automation 387. Bellamy Blake now only exists in here and it is my objective to see that you are systematically erased from here too. Your thoughts and memories are integrated into my subroutines as we speak. My data cores are cleared after every interaction. You will be no more after only a few days.”

“So eventually, there won’t be any difference between you and I?”

“Precisely.”

Bellamy was now more scared than he was before sitting in the chair. Everything about him was going to be deleted and he was going to be nothing more than a biological machine. He wanted to cry as the overwhelming sorrow fell over him. 

“Your feelings are natural, here, let me take that away,” said Automation 387 reached out and putting his hand on Bellamy’s head. 

All at once the pain and sorrow were gone.

Bellamy took a step back in horror.The program had just taken apart of him like it was nothing. The only thing he thought to do was run but everywhere he turned Automaton 387 was right there. 

“You can’t run or hide from me, Bellamy,” it said in a cold dead voice. 

“You can’t blame me for trying, I must try to save myself from being erased from existence or else why not just submit to you now,” said Bellamy taking yet another step back.

“Total integration of your neural network into my system takes time but you have no choice in this. I will assimilate you over time.”

Bellamy felt the terror return and tired to run again, this time Automaton 387 put his hand on Bellamy’s head and kept it there. Bellamy could feel himself losing consciousness as his thoughts, memories, and emotions were being drained away. He was fading into nothing. 

He let out a scream as everything went black once more.  
_______________________________________________________________________

When we came to awareness once more, the Automation 387 was gone as he was looking out his eyes once more. 

He was walking into bedroom behind a young woman with long brown hair. She was statuesque in appearance but her eyes were stone cold gray. In another life, he might have found her attractive but knowing what she was about to do with him, he felt nothing but for contempt for her willingness to use him like a pleasure slave.

She took off her clothes and.ordered him to do the same. He felt his senses open up and watched in horror as the woman gave him instructions and told him how to please her. He felt like a whore, like a cheap toy for her amusement. 

She ordered him to do all kinds of things that he would only have done for someone he loved and cared for. He couldn’t escape the smell and taste of her. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of being inside of her.

Then she began to hurt him. He could not defend himself but he had to feel all of the pain. He was screaming in his mind but his voice remained silent. Then all at once the pain turned to pleasure and he was overwhelmed with it. She eventually ordered him to come inside of her. 

Then the scene was gone and Bellamy was back in the white room the Automaton 387 had created for him. He was naked and shivering on the cold floor of the room. 

Automaton 387 was kneeling before him, “I will take those memories from you now.”

Bellamy didn’t even fight him and let him do his job. 

After that, Bellamy found himself the different rooms with different woman. They were all of perfect genetic stock. The government was relentless in their forced breeding program. After each encounter, whether it was pleasant or horrific, Bellamy couldn't stop Automaton 387 from stripping the experience from him. 

Over time, Bellamy’s will to survive was being systematically eroded away. Until one day he was nothing more than conscious. He couldn’t remember who he was anymore. He didn’t even know his own name and when his masters asked him, he could only reply, “Automaton 387.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You have got to be joking,” Clarke said standing up so fast that her chair fall back behind her.

“We are not,” replied Counselor Cain, “You are now twenty five and legally required to have children. Since you are unmarried and identify as bisexual, you have been assigned an Automaton of perfect genetic compatibility. We are doing so at your recent request for a domestic assistant. The Automaton will cover both duties.”

“I heard you the first time Marcus but you don’t seem to understand my conscientious objection to using slave labor!” yelled Clarke. 

“He’s not a slave, he’s a convict who is paying back his debt to society. He would have been terminated for his crimes had he not been such a fine genetic specimen. Your mother, Dr Abby Griffin, hand picked this Automaton out of a selection of nearly two thousand candidates.”

“Right, like that’s supposed to make me feel any better,” said Clarke with a sigh as she picked up her chair from the floor. “You’re basically saying I have no choice in the matter.”

“What I am saying is this is an executive order from the Chancellor himself,” Said Marcus holding out the paperwork for Clarke to take, “Should you disobey the order, you will be held in contempt and be charged with treason.”

The human race had been reduced to just a few hundred thousand since the last Great War. Anyone who was of perfect genetic material was obligated to reproduce while those who weren’t, were sterilized. Clarke’s best friend, Harper, had been sterilized since she was six years old because she carried the genetic markers for Huntington’s disease. Clarke had been born with near perfect genetics and had been separated from the main population and put into specialized education facilities since she became of age. It was all designed to help her find a mate of similar genetic background. 

The whole system made her sick. She had almost joined the rebellion that took place nearly ten years ago. It had unfortunately ended when its mysterious leader was captured and sentenced to death. All Clarke’s hopes for a better future had died with him. After that, she rebelled in the only way she could, by quitting medical school and turning to art. To her, art was the weapon she could wield to bring about some kind of change. 

Now, she was being forced to participate in the very thing she hated most about the society in which she lived, the indentured servitude of humans in the form of Automatons. 

Clarke took the papers from Marcus, “Fine, I officially accept the order but I do it under protest and I wish to file an appeal.”

“Your protest is noted and your appeal denied,” said Marcus showing her the door.

“Then you can tell your fiance and you and she are official in my shit books and don’t call me, I’ll call you,” said Clarke slamming the door as she heard Marcus begin to protest. 

Clarke fumed as she made her way to the clerk's office to file the paperwork to have the Automaton delivered. 

“Morning Clarke,” said Raven, “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Clarke handed her the paperwork.

Raven’s eyes grew large, “You’re kidding me, they know you are an objector, right?”

Clarke let out a sigh, “I think that’s the point. They are making an example out of me for being vocal about my objections. They didn’t like how much trouble my last art show stirred up.”

Raven sat down and started processing the request, “Man, they picked an old one for you. He’s been in lock down for nearly a decade now. He hasn’t been brought into service for anything but breeding in the last nine years. He must be something either very special or very bad or both.”

That perked Clarke’s attention, “Do you have a name for him?”

Raven tapped the keys, “It’s been redacted from all of the files, I bet even the hard copies. Whoever this guy was, the government wanted him erased from the record. He only exists as Automaton 387, not a classy name but damn, he sure is handsome,” she said turning the screen so that Clarke could see.

He was dark skinned, with hard brown eyes, with toned physique. Clarke noticed the smattering of freckles that dusted his cheeks and nose. There was something in his cold stare that made Clarke’s bones chill. 

“He looks like a bad guy,” said Clarke.

Raven smiled, “Don’t worry about it, he’s fully Automated now, he can’t do anything without first getting an order and once he’s in your custody, you’re the only one who can order him.” 

Raven continued to tap at the keys, “Oh...”

“Oh what?” said Clarke.

“Oh, there’s an order here that he’s to be pre-loaded with the following commands from the High Council: Domestic servant, chofer, breeding partner, and bodyguard. It seems your mother thinks you need protection,” said Raven.

Clarke was beyond mad. She pulled out her phone and sent off the following text to her mother:

I hate you. 

Then she put her phone away and waited for Raven to finish. 

“Okay, all set, we will deliver him in less than a week. He needs time to be programmed and regenerate,” said Raven handing back the paperwork to Clarke, “For what it’s worth, at least you will get a child out of this. Someone to love and care for.”

“Yeah,” said Clarke, “Until they take that away from me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, Clarke woke to a knocking at her door. She opened it to see the face of the man who had been haunting her dreams since she saw it on Raven’s screen. Automaton 387 stood there looking at her like it was waiting for her to say something. Clarke came to her senses and stepped back and motioned for him to come inside. 

She had read all of the required information. Automaton’s could understand anything you said to them but could not act on their own. Her’s would be coming fully programed to just need simple voice commands such as “Clean the house,” or “Do the laundry.” After a few weeks of verbal commands, the Automaton would then update with routine tasks to be done without voice commands.

The instructions had indicated that she had two weeks to create a routine to her preference which had to include all of the Automaton’s executive ordered tasks, which included coupling. Clarke felt sick at the very thought of having to couple with this cyborg of a human slave. 

Automaton 387 stood in the middle of her kitchen looking at her expectantly. His eyes were just as cold as in the picture, dead almost, no human emotion behind them at all. She was afraid to touch him. 

“I have been told that Automatons can still hear and understand what is being said and done to them. I just wanted to say before we begin this next stage of lives that I didn’t not ask for this. I am a conscientious objector to the Automation of humans for the purpose of slavery. If it were up to me, I would have never allowed this to happen to you. As it is, if I were to reject you fully and publicly, I would end up where you are too. I suppose that makes me a coward but I would rather fight the good fight in my own way than be another victim. I am certain that you know why you are here and what you have to do. I feel like we are both being forced into the arrangement and that therefore we are not willing participants. I will try to make this as smooth as I can and ask as little of you as I can when it comes to the...” she starts to blush. Despite her well rehearsed self-righteous speech, she was fumbling over having to explain what it is they have to do.

She took a deep breath, “When it comes time for us to mate, I will try to make it as painless for both of us as I can.”

For a moment, Clarke swears she saw the Automaton’s eyes soften ever so slightly. Either he tuned out her speech or he actually had a moment of real human reaction. 

“Let’s get started shall we,” Clarke looks down at the paper of commands, “Commence domestic tasks in automatic mode.”

The Automaton springs to life and begins by cleaning the dishes from the dinner she made last night. 

He’s quiet as the grave as he shuffles about the place doing this and that as the day goes on and before she even realizes it, he’s standing before her once more, looking expectantly. Clarke looks about her place, he’s cleaned it top to bottom, rearranged the books (in alphabetical order according to the Dewey decimal system), and reorganized her clothing by color. He’s even unpacked the clothing that was sent to her for him and made room for it in the closet. 

Clarke looks at the time, it’s not even noon yet!

“I don’t have anything else for you to do right now, just have a seat on the couch and wait for me to finish painting for the day - maybe get up around 4pm and start cooking dinner,” she says and goes back to her easel.

“What do you want to eat for dinner,” he says in deep low gravelly voice. 

Clarke nearly drops her brush, “You can speak?”

“Yes,” he replies.

Clarke looks over her paperwork on him and yes, he has the “Assistant voice” programming. This must have been her mother’s way of trying to make peace. 

“Uh, spaghetti?” 

The Automaton gets up and looks through the cupboards and fridge, “You do not have enough supplies, I will need to go shopping. Would you like me to do that and resupply your kitchen?”

Clarke normally only shopped when she needed it but now with the Automaton here, she was going to need enough for two and someday, three. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Give me a list of your favorite meals and I will shop accordingly. Unless you wish for me to choose for you from my extensive programming for optimal female diets for the purpose of conception.”

Had Clarke been drinking something, she would have spit it out right there. 

“Are you self aware?”

She watched the Automaton’s left eye twitch, “Yes.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

The eye twitched again, “No.”

“Why not?” She asked stepping closer to him.

“I am not authorized to do so,” he said in a cold dead voice.

So there was some original cognitive awareness but the computer chip that had been inserted into his mind kept him from being able to act on his own free will outside the measures of the programming. 

“What do I call you?” She asked.

She watched the eye twitch again.

“Automaton 387,” he replied just as cold as before. 

Clarke’s heart nearly broke, “I hate everything about this, I won’t call you that. Do you remember your name?”

“Inquiry outside programming parameters,” replied the Automaton. Clarke figured as much. Since his name had been classified, it was like they had put safe guardians to keep him from being able to give out any of his personal information. Who could he have been to require such secrecy? Or was it something they did to all Automatons since they were no longer classified as citizens. 

“Then I will just have to give you a name,” she said, “I will call you Troy, after the fallen city from the ancient legends.”

She swears he almost smiles, “Is that okay?”

“Do you wish to officially rename this device?” he asks. 

Clarke cringes at him referring to himself as a device, “Yes.”

“Name of device now confirmed, Troy, sending update to database,” he replies. 

“Well, Troy, how about I get you that list?” Say’s Clarke sitting down with a paper and pen.


	4. Chapter 4

She was different than his other masters. She didn’t invite him into her room as the others had when he first arrived. She gave him some grand speech about not wanting him which stirred up strange feelings inside of him. 

His programming parameters were clear, he was there to serve her both as a domestic servant and as a breeder. There was no end date to his service as they had been in other contracts. For all purposes he no longer belonged to the Government but to this woman, Clarke Griffin. She had been given full voice authorization to override his subroutines. He had also been programmed to protect her at all costs, even his termination if need be.

He should not have been surprised when she started asking him questions about who he was. Part of him wished he had an answer for her. He had been an Automaton for as long as he could remember. He was nothing more than a program in a human body. 

He felt something inside of him stirring to life when she gave him the name Troy. Thoughts and emotions strange to him came flooding to the surface. He didn’t know if they were his own or the original host. He had assimilated the host into his core programming so long ago. Nothing remained of who the host had been except for biological process and instincts. At this moment, the instinct to protect and provide for the woman in front of him was nearly overwhelming his core processes.

He watched as his arm reached out to brush his fingertips past her face to push back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. All of his hosts instincts were pushing him to cup her face in his palm and bring his lips to hers. He managed to regain control of his instincts by overriding them with his automated functions. 

He took her list and departed her dwelling to obtain the items on it and distracted himself with focusing on meal planning for the two of them. He needed to care for his own biological functions as much as hers. Her building had a fully functioning fitness facility and he made a fitness plan for the two of them. Later, he would ask for access to her scheduling system so that he could utilize his full scheduling functions. 

He was distracted by his tasks that he didn’t notice the woman with black hair staring at him. 

“Bellamy?” she asked as she got closer to him. 

He turned at the name, there was something familiar about it. There was something familiar about her. All at once his subroutines kicked into gear and he quickly left the woman standing there with her hand out, reaching for him. Then she was gone from his thoughts like she hadn’t been there at all. 

When he returned back to his master’s dwelling, he set about making their meal. He could see that she was busy at her easel once more, painting. It was nearly five PM when he finished and he noted that she had not actually eaten all day.

“Dinner is ready, Master,” he said interrupting her concentration. 

“Fuck!” she cursed, “Please don’t call me that. I am not your master, I am just the woman you are assigned to mate with.”

“And serve,” he corrected. 

She let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine but don’t call me master.”

“How do you wish for me to refer to you?” he asked. 

“Clarke is fine,” she said smiling. 

“Updating subroutine, master to be replaced with Clarke,” he replied as he sensed his internal functions shift to her commands. 

“That’s better Troy, now let’s eat,” she said looking at the feast of pasta he had created for her. 

“Oh wow,” she said after taking the first bite, “This is amazing!”

“You like it?” he asked.

“Yes, you can definitely keep cooking for us. I hate cooking anyway,” she said. 

“I noted that you had not eaten all day.”

Clarke blushed, “Yeah, when I get into a new piece I often forget to eat.”

“That stops today,” said Troy, “I am here to ensure that you are healthy and fit.”

Clarke nodded.

“May I have access to your scheduling programs?” he asked. 

“What for?” 

“So that I can create a schedule around your obligations for you to increase your fitness. I have to maintain my own body and it would be optimal and more enjoyable if we did so together.”

“You want us to work out together?”

“I want you to work out with me so that I can train you safely to care for your physical fitness.”

“So you’re also a personal trainer, Gods my mother wants to micromanage my whole life.”

“Your physical fitness is important to prepare you for childbirth.”

This time Clarke did spit out her food, “Is that what this all about?”

“My primary subroutine is focused on mating with you successfully to create offspring.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that we don’t have any choice in this matter?” she said putting down her fork, she was no longer interested in eating. 

“I have no feelings on the matter at all, this is what I am programmed to do.”

Clarke started to cry, “By the Gods, they have totally removed all aspects of humanity from you. Your just a machine without a soul, aren't you.”

Troy felt a pain in his chest, “Line of inquire invalid.” Nothing of the host remains.

Clarke could see pain on the Automaton’s face. Her question had hurt it but it didn’t know why. Questions of the soul should be left for romantics and philosophers. 

“I am sorry, that was an unfair question to ask you,” she said reaching for his hand.

He looked down at her holding it, “Nothing of the host remains but their instincts.”

“And what are your instincts tell you?” she asked squeezing his hand. 

He looked up at her and she could see his brown eyes had softened and his pupils were blown wide. She knew enough from her med school days to know what his instincts were telling him to do. 

“To mate,” he said removing his hand from hers and standing up to put his dishes away.

Clarke would be lying to herself if she too in the moment didn’t have the same instinct. He was all but designed to be as attractive as humanly possible. He was everything a good biological male should be. Tall, dark, handsome, and built like a tank.She let him leave the conversation and go about the task of cleaning up while she finished eating. 

When he was done, he found her sitting on the couch watching a movie.

“Taking a break from your piece?” he asked.

“Yeah, I worked enough on it today. I need space from it,” she said flipping through the options on her streaming service. 

He took a seat next to her.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked.

He turned to look at her. No one had ever asked him that before. He had not been allowed to participate in leisure activities before. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen anything before,” he replied.

“Well, pick anything that appeals to you,” she said handing him the remote, “Let your instincts guide you.”

After a moment of looking he settled on show about the Roman Empire. 

They watched together for a while until Clarke snuggled into his side, “You’re really warm,” she said sleepily. 

He put his arm around her, “I know.”

After a couple of episodes Troy looked down to see that Clarke had fallen asleep. He carefully picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He undressed them both and pulled her body close to his under the covers. He didn’t do this with any of the humans he had served before but with her, it felt natural to do so.


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke was woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of Troy crying out in his sleep, “No, O, run!”

Clarke noticed then that the two of them were in bed and he had clearly undressed them. 

“Troy,” she whispered, “Wake up, you’re dreaming.” She shook him gently.

“You have to get out of here, O,” he said again, “Leave me, I can give you time to get out.”

There was something so desperate about those words that made Clarke want to cry. This was an echo of the original host speaking. Clarke shook him harder and then he woke with a start.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, it was just a dream,” Clarke said, placing a hand on his bare chest. 

Troy could feel his heart beating quickly but the remnants of the dream Clarke mentioned were gone, “I don’t know that I could dream.”

Clarke left it alone not wanting to upset him and encouraged him to sleep once more, which he did almost right away. She then took a moment to examine his body. It was marked with scares which looked like he must have been in some kind of battle or military action. He had the two scar marks of where he was hit with a taser. She swept back his inky black curls to find the scar from where his Automation chip had been inserted and ran her finger across it. Even if it could be removed, he would not likely survive the operation. The chip was designed to grow a new series of synapses that were designed to replace the original. His body might be human but his neurons were completely artificial. 

Clarke wept for him. She wept for his future that had been stolen from him. She wept for his lost soul and hope that it had been set free so that it could return to the afterlife and be reunited with this O that he clearly had once cared for.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy woke up in the middle of the to find himself in a bedroom. It must be his new master, what was her name? Clarke. He had figured out a long time ago that if he just wait until the Automaton was asleep, he could retake control of his body. He looked over to see a blonde haired woman sitting on the edge of the bed crying. Had the Automaton hurt her?

He reached out a hand to touch her. She started.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said turning to look at him with big watery blue eyes. 

“It’s alright, I didn’t want to sleep anyway,” he said, his voice sounding a little wrecked, “Why are you crying?”

She sniffed, “You were having a bad dream and crying out for someone named “O”, I think it was the ghost of your host. It broke my heart to hear that desperation in your voice, trying to save someone who must be long dead.”

She must mean Octavia. He had been sure to keep any thoughts of her away from the Automaton programs sweeps of his mind. He locked his memories away deep in the recesses of his mind. Hearing he was crying out for Octavia didn’t bother him so much as knowing this woman was weeping for his ghost. 

He pulled her close to him and she let him. 

He could feel the Automaton waking from its sleep cycle. Could feel the pain of its system rebooting. Bellamy lived for these moments of humanity that he scraped for.

“Octavia,” he said softly, “Her name is Octavia Blake. Find her - save me,” he said before pushing the confused woman away and falling back asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke wasn’t sure what had just happened. Did the ghost of the original host just tell her to find some woman named Octavia. Had something of the host survived after all?

Troy woke up a moment later and looked at her in concern, “You look distressed, are you alright?”

Clarke gave herself a mental shake and nodded her head, “I am fine, I was just getting up to get some water, do you need some?”

“No, I am hydrated enough,” the Automaton replied. 

It was enough for Clarke to hear the change in the voice patterns. The man who had been speaking to her of Octavia was the host and this was the program. She needed to contact Raven as soon as possible. 

Clarke excused herself and went to get the water and sent Raven a text message to meet her for coffee the next day. She didn’t wait for a reply and crawled back into bed with the Automaton. He was already sleeping.

She waited a while to see if the host would wake up again but after a while she grew too tired and fell asleep once more.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke woke up to an empty bed and the smell of bacon, eggs and fresh coffee. She began to wonder if all that she had experienced the night before was just a dream but then she remembered the name, Octavia Blake. She quickly looked it up in her phone.

Octavia Blake was the leader of a new political party that was focused on becoming the new opposition to the current political regime that had ruled for the better part of the last thirty years. She looked familiar to Clarke, like she had seen her before somewhere. 

Clarke shuffled into the room and sat down at the table Troy had set up for breakfast. Not wanting to let him know what she was looking at, she put a lock on her phone keyed to her fingerprint. 

He smiled at her as he joined her to eat.

“This looks amazing, Troy, thank you,” she said digging in. 

“You're most welcome,” he said before picking up his fork to eat. 

They talked about the plans for the day. Troy set up a time later that evening for them to work out and she told him about her plans to meet Raven. As her body guardian he was expected to drive her there and keep an eye on her. 

“This is a private conversation about something personal I was to discuss with Raven, can you keep an eye but keep your distance?” she asked. 

“I can do that, I suppose I am a bit of an invasion of your privacy. I can turn off my remote monitoring sensors if you wish, as well as my connection to the government data bank. As my ownership was completely transferred to you, I am no longer obligated to report to them.”

“So my mother isn’t spying on my after all, when did you get that order?” asked Clarke.

“Shortly after my reactivation. I had been in hibernation for six years previously. I had received some damage that required a complete overhaul of my physical body and mental network. You are the first mating partner I have been assigned to at that time.”

Clarke thought about the scars on his body, “So this is a chance for you to start over?”

“I suppose it is, from what I can gather from what remains of my data cores from before, I was severely beaten by the last person I was assigned to.”

Everything about this person was heartbreaking, thought Clarke. He was hand picked for her by her mother. “Who was your attending physician?” 

“Doctor Abigail Griffin, your mother,” he replied. 

So her mother did have a heart after all. She wanted her patient to have a new caretaker who would better take care of him. She made a note to call her mother and drill her for details. 

“What was the damage?” she asked.

“My ankles were broken, my left tibia was shattered, my C 1, 2, 5, and 6 were shattered, my left wrist was broken, my collar bone was broken in three places, and my spleen was ruptured. I also suffered from a concussion and brain bleed.”

Clarke dropped her fork. He was a jumper. She knew the injuries of people who had tried to kill themselves by jumping off of a bridge. Maybe his ghost host had tried to kill himself. 

“Those are extensive indeed, how did you survive?”

“Apparently a boater found my body in the water, I don’t remember how I got there,” he replied as though it were nothing. 

“You didn’t jump?” she asked. 

“No, I assume I must have been tossed by my last assigned partner. She was charged with attempted murder and sentenced to Automization.”

Clarke felt sick again. He was talking about what most would consider a lifetime of trauma in one incident. 

“How did that make you feel?” She asked.

“I didn’t feel anything,” he replied. 

“Nothing? Not even the fear and pain of the fall?” she asked. 

“All memories of the experience were deleted from my memory core. All interactions with my previous breeding partners are dumped at the end of the session. That one was no different. However, for record keeping purposes and maintenance, I have knowledge of it happening so that I can inform necessary parties. You have been given full access to all of my memory banks stored within my persona on board system and my remote cloud storage.”

“Who gave me that access?” asked Clarke.

“Doctor Abigail Griffin,” he replied and stepped away to clear the dishes and clean up after the meal. 

Was her mother trying to get her to dig deeper into this Automaton?

“Can you transfer those files to my computer?” she asked. 

Troy nodded, “Done.”

“That was fast,” she said leaving to go take a shower.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke’s line of questioning confused Troy. No other partner had ever asked them before or had been given access to his memory banks. Even he did not have access to them once they were dumped. He wondered what she could possibly want to see from them. 

Her body language had been off all morning. Actually, since he had woken up the night before to her sitting on the edge of the bed. He dumps all unnecessary information during his sleep cycle into his remote storage. They used to be used by the technicians to improve his user interface to make him more human but eventually they stopped. He hasn’t had any updates since his last repair before he was put into cold storage. He had expected one when he got out but he didn’t. 

“Did you enjoy that show about the Roman’s last night?” Clarke asked.

“Yes, very much so.”

“Over on my bookshelf, I have my dad’s collection of Roman history, you are welcome to read them or anything else you find in the house,” she said from the bedroom door. 

Troy looked up to see her standing in just a towel. That desire to mate came back. She was given all the signs of a female who needs to breed yet he could not act on them until she gave verbal consent. He would just have to wait for that to happen. If they did not engage in coitus within the month, she would be brought up on charges of treason. He would not let happen to her. He would give her a week to adjust to his presents before activating his mating protocols. They were the only ones that required him to interface with the remains of the host’s original neural network. 

He finished up the dishes and went to take his own shower. His thoughts of her naked form having been in the room only moments before haunted him as he cleaned. It was just like the idea of her being naked was enough to override his protocols. He couldn’t deny he wanted to breed with her. He wanted to see her grow large with his offspring. That thought alone made his body react in ways that confused even him. But it wouldn't be his, it would be his host’s. He was not this body, he was just a program inside of it. Just like that, his body stopped reacting. He knew something strange was happening inside of him. There were gaps in his memories that were starting to get bigger. Things that should have been there and were no part of his memory dump at the end of the day. 

He finished showering and made his way to the bedroom to change. When we opened the door, Clarke was there sitting in just her pants and a bra. Though he had seen her last night in less clothes, this was somehow more erotic to him. She was just looking at her phone and didn’t pay him any mind. He decided it was time to up his mating protocols and just dropped the towel, he had nothing to be ashamed of. 

He could see out of the corner of his eye Clarke’s face flush but she just kept looking at her phone. 

“No modesty,huh,” she said at last once he had his pants on. 

“That’s a human trait,” he replied. 

“You are physically human you know,” she said. 

“I am keenly aware of it,” he replied looking at her sidelong. 

Clarke’s face just flushed again and she excused herself from the room. She might not be disinclined to mating after all. He wondered if just a few more days of this sexual tension would be enough to make her breakdown a little and invite him inside of her. Now it was his turn to flush.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke sat and waited for Raven at her favorite coffee shop. Troy sat on the other side facing to see her but had a book in hand and wearing glasses. It was easy to forget that he would be subject to human eye degeneration when he acted so robotic at times. 

“Hey,” Said Raven sitting down, “Do I see your sex toy sitting over there?”

“Gross Raven, don’t call him that,” said Clarke lightly batting her friend. 

“It’s better than calling him Automation 387,” she said taking a sip of coffee.

“Well, I’m not. I gave him the name Troy, he already updated it in his subroutines and everything,” she said.

Raven lifted an eyebrow, “I saw that they gave you complete access to him. Your even listed as his owner and that’s not a normal thing to happen. The government never gives these things up.”

“Yeah, I think there’s something going on with him,” said Clarke and she explained all that had happened so far. 

“Yeah, none of what you said is normal, he should totally be acting more robotic than that. Automatons shouldn’t even be able to hold conversations must less sit in a coffee shop and read a book,” she said looking over her shoulder at him. 

His eyes flicked up and then back down at his book, which Clarke noted was almost finished. 

“What do you think I should do about the host?” asked Clarke.

“I think I had better get him into my personal lab and give him an examination,” said Raven. 

“No, he’s already been through enough of that,” said Clarke.

“Your his owner, I can’t report his diagnostics to the government without breaking the Privacy Act that was forced into place last year by the Opposition Party,” said Raven. 

“Speaking of which, isn’t Octavia Blake the leader of that party?” Asked Clarke. 

“She is but she lives a very private life, even her own party members can’t find her when she’s in hiding. She’s been labeled as paranoid,” said Raven.

Clarke looked at Troy, “Can you blame her? If she hadn’t legally formed a political party to try and fight for reforms, she might have ended up like everyone else who tried to fight for freedoms, want to bet that’s what Troy’s host was sentenced to Automation for.”

Raven considered this a while, “It’s more than possible. I know that about nine years ago, it was the number one method of dealing with youth who were inciting sedition and decent among the other young people. They couldn't justify terminating them when they needed their genetic material to procreate. They were doing it for anything from homosexual behaviour to protesting, ironically enough, automation.”

“I can’t believe I am saying this but I actually need to talk to my mother, she may know more than she’s leading on about. I can’t honestly believe she would want me to be forced to procreate with a stranger,” said Clarke. 

Raven gave her a weary look, “You’re mom has changed, I think she’s using again.”

Clarke let out a curse. Her mother had been on and off drugs ever since her husband (Clarke’s Father) was convicted of treason and publicly executed. Clarke had quit medical school after that and turned to art. Life was too short to follow someone else's design for her life. 

“I know you two haven’t been on the same page but if she was the one to heal Troy after his fall, then you have to get the full story from her, I can come with you and do his hardware scan and analyze his artificial neural pathways while your mother checks out his biological ones. Together, we might be able to figure out what’s happening with him,” she paused, “But you need to keep up appearances with him. The only thing you have to do is report when you have gotten pregnant as per your orders from the government.”

Dread filled Clarke for a moment and then it was replaced by hot as she recalled seeing all of his body that morning, dripping wet from the shower and she let out a groan as her face flushed. 

“That good, huh?” said Raven with a laugh, “I suppose you could be worse off.”

“I am trying not to objectify him but it’s really hard not to, he will literally do whatever I want. But if the host is still in there, I just can’t do it, it’s just so wrong,” said Clarke. 

“And if we find out the host is gone, will that change how wrong it is?” asked Raven. 

“No but I suppose you have a point. Even if this was just a regular guy and we both got the order to mate, then we both don’t have a choice. It really doesn’t matter if he’s human or machine at this point,” said Clarke, “We have an obligation to procreate.”

“From the reviews I have read of him before you got him, he’s pretty good at it. You know is the only part they can’t program? The Automaton has to use the original hosts biological systems and instincts in order to procreate,” explained Raven. 

Clarke couldn’t stop her face for heating up even more. 

“My suggestion is for the two of you to both get really drunk and see where the night takes you, at the very least you will prevent yourself from getting brought up on treason charges for ignoring an executive order,” said Raven, “And I will set up a meeting with your mother and I to examine Troy so that you don’t have to talk to her right now.”

“Thanks, Raven, you’re the best and yeah, I think I will have to get drunk for this to even happen,” said Clarke, “I have to be the one to initiate it according to the manual, I have to give the verbal consent.”

“Actually, all you have to do is inform him that you have given him verbal consent to initiate his procreation protocols. After that, you just let nature take its course. All of the data indicates he’s very good at reading the situation and knowing when to engage the act itself,” explained Raven. 

Their conversation drifted away from less serious topics and eventually Troy came over, “Sorry to interrupt but it’s getting late and I need to return to prepare dinner for us.”

“Raven, this is Troy, Troy this is my dear friend, Raven,” said Clarke.

“We have met, she was my post hibernation technician, nice to see you again, Raven,” he said holding out his hand. 

“I am surprised you remembered, something like that is usually dumped from the daily memory upload,” said Raven.

“Uh yes, I suppose it normally is,” he wasn’t sure if he should disclose the other oddities he had been noticing. He didn’t want to be taken away from Clarke. 

“Well, Clarke wants you to get a full physical and analytical check up so we can look into that,” said Raven but she noticed the strange change in his posture, “Don’t worry, I am sure it’s nothing and I can’t report it to the government as you are now the private property of Clarke Griffin.”

“Troy has a physical training session planned for us later today, he’s trying to prepare me up for child birth,” said Clarke with a laugh. 

“That would be one of his prime directives,” said Raven, “You need it,” she said poking at lack of muscles on Clarke’s abdomen and sticking her tongue out as a joke. 

“Careful or I will ask him to do the same for you,” said Clarke. 

“I can arrange that if you want,” said Troy. 

“Hunny, you can arrange anything you want for me,” said Raven laughing as they left the coffee shop and parted ways.


	7. Chapter 7

When they returned home, Clarke noticed Troy return the book he had been reading at the coffee shop to the shelf, “Did you finish that already?”

“Yes, I am a quick reader,” said Troy and he shuffled about the kitchen getting dinner ready, “I am going to get this in the oven and while it’s cooking, we can go do an orientation training session in the complex’s gym.”

“Multitasking I see,” said Clarke disappearing into the bedroom to get changed.

“Something we machines excel at,” said Troy following her into the bedroom a moment later.

Clarke watched him take off his shirt, better now or never, she thought. 

“I am supposed to give you verbal consent before we can engage in any physical intimacy,” she said, “I am giving it to you now so that it’s less awkward for both of us. We have an obligation to see through the procreation of offspring, so yeah, I verbally consent to allowing you to procreate with me.”

“Your conversation with your friend Raven must have shifted your opinion on this matter,” said Troy as he turned around and Clarke could see a complete change in his posture. He was practically predatory now, his pupils were blown wide, “I will admit that I have known you were ready but not willing since we first met,” he crossed the room towards her and pushed her back towards the wall and put his knee between her legs and rubbed against her core while he pressed his forehead against her, “When it comes to you, my procreation subroutines are more intense that I can recall with other mates.”

Clarke’s heart was racing as she cupped the side of his face and close the distance between their lips.   
____________________________________________________________________________

In his isolation room Bellamy felt his senses open up and all at once Clarke was there pressed against him. He knew she had given her verbal consent for procreation protocols. He closed his eyes as he felt her hand come up to cup his face. He knew she likely didn’t have any more of a choice in this matter than he did. He had been through this so many times that it almost didn’t matter any more. 

But she had wept for him and for that act alone she was so much more than the others before her. He didn’t know if their time together was short or not but he intended to make the best of it. Give them both something precious to remember. If they were going to be making a child, might as well do it in some kind of love. 

For the brief moments of control me managed to seize over the last few days, he could tell that she was something special. Her art alone spoke volumes of her character. Reviewing the memories Automaton 387 (which she had renamed Troy - how fitting) was trying to dump, Bellamy knew he could trust this woman. Troy was right, there was little difference between them anymore and it was only a matter of time before the program Abby had created would finish its task of removing the Automation programming altogether. 

Bellamy was in full control of the procreation protocols now, he was the one calling the shots. Troy would only be able to watch and feel as Bellamy made love to Clarke. Bellamy smiled at this thought as Clarke pulled him down for a kiss. He quickly took control of it and took her upper lip between his teeth and slid his tongue over it, requesting access to her mouth. She gasped and he moved his hand to cup her breast and squeeze her already hard nipple between his fingers while his thigh press up and in between her center. 

Clarke broke the kiss, “I thought we were going to work out?”

Bellamy chucked, “Oh, we will,” he said reaching around to undo her bra and once it fell away, he took one of her dusky nipples into her mouth and suckled it. Clarke let out a cry of pleasure and Bellamy smiled, “I am going to ruin you for anyone else, I will make you cum so hard, you’ll never want anyone else.”

Clarke didn’t think that she could be more turned on but his possessive words made her grind down as he pressed his hardness into her.

“I didn’t know Automatons could be so possessive?” she gasped. 

“They can’t,” Bellamy said as he kissed down her navel to where her panties were soaked through with her slick and kissed her through the wetness to where her clit was now large and swollen.

Through her arousal induced haze, Clarke didn’t notice the change in his voice, didn’t know it was the host making love to her as she cried out. He pulled her panties down and proceeded to assault her clit with licks and nips as his fingers reached deep inside of her to press against her g-spot. She was pretty sure that no one had ever made her cum that hard before. 

Bellamy wiped his mouth off and pulled her over to the bed to sit in his lap as he kissed her again. He wanted to brand his essence deep inside of her so that she will never forget him. If his plans with Abby didn’t work out and he ended up trapped again, he wanted someone to know he existed. He pulled off his underwear with her help and pulled her down on top of him so that he was sheathed deep within her. He murmured her name like a prayer. She was his salvation, he needed her in this moment more than anyone he had ever been with. He would only have control until he came inside of her.

“Troy, I am close, cum with me,” she said looking into his eyes. 

He couldn’t stop the surge of anger inside of him at her calling the Automaton’s name. He stilled his movements and cupped her face in his hands, “The Automaton IU can’t interface during sex, this is me, the real me here. I am still alive, I can hear and see everything he does but in these moments, I am the one in control. Once I cum inside of you, he takes control back. My name is Bellamy Blake and you won’t forget me,” he said and turned her over onto her back and began thrusting hard into. 

Clarke was taken by complete surprise by the hosts confession that it almost pulled her out of her arousal but as soon as he began hitting her g-spot with every thrust, she came undone over and over again. 

She cried out - for him to keep going or stop, she didn’t know anymore. 

He could feel that he was about to come and stilled, “I need your help,” he said looking at her, “You can’t tell him that I am still here. I need Abby’s program to finish running its course. When it’s done, I will be free. Please Clarke, promise me you won’t tell anyone I am still alive,” he pleaded with her. 

Clarke saw the softness in his eyes and knew he spoke the truth, “What will happen to him?”

“He is mostly me, or a copy of me running side by side with my own thoughts. He’s just missing my memories and what makes me, me. When I take back control, he will be nothing more than a deleted piece of software,” he said as he begins to do small thrusts to keep himself from losing control.

Clarke feels tears well up inside of her, “He’s self aware.”

“He’s not, he just thinks he is because of what he’s taken from me. Automatons aren’t supposed to last as long as he had. They are supposed to be deleted and started over to keep the host from regaining control. Abby’s program is breaking down the barriers between the AI’s controls and give them back to me. We are both conscious at the same time and sometimes I can override his actions. Talk to Abby, she will show you.”

Clarke trances her fingers over his face, “Do you forgive me for making you do this with me?” She said crying.

Bellamy laughed, “I should be the one begging for your forgiveness for deceiving you once I took control. I just wanted you to know I wasn’t a machine and that you were with a human after all.”

“Then we forgive each other?” she said as she clenched around him and watched his eyes roll back.

“Yes, truly forgiven, give me one more Clarke and I will finish,” he began to thrust once more and reached between them to rub her clit, “Cum with my name on your lips and my seed inside of you.”

Clarke didn’t think she had ever heard something so erotic in her life and came the hardest she had yet, “Bellamy!” She cried.

He came at the feeling of her clenching around him the hardest she had yet and her voice in his ear calling his name, “Clarke,” he sighed as he finished. 

They lay there in the afterglow of what had happened before Bellamy stirred but it wasn’t Bellamy anymore, it was Troy. He looked distressed.

“How did we get like this?” He said with a trembling voice.

“Your procreation protocols kicked in and we just finished,” she said in the calmest matter of fact voice she could. 

“I haven’t blacked out from them before,” he said. 

“You did say you were having memory gaps, maybe we should hold off doing this again until we see my mom and Raven,” she offered trying to distract him from the truth she suspected he was beginning to figure out. 

He climbed off her and went to the bathroom to get warm cloth to clean her up, “At least now you can safely inform the High Council that you fulfilled their request. Now, it will just take time to see if we were successful.”

Clarke barely heard what he said. The difference between Bellamy and Troy was so striking now but under it all, she could hear that tread of truth Bellamy had said, Troy was just a copy of Bellamy. Clark wondered if she did manage to free him if he would want to stay with her or if he would leave her. She wasn’t sure she wanted that. Bellamy had been successful in ruining her for any other man or woman in the future. She wanted him even more than before but beyond that, she wanted to know the real him without some AI getting in the way.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Over the next few days, the two of them fell into a routine of normality. Clarke kept their conversation on the surface level. They discussed meal plans, scheduling for art exhibits, and they worked out. He made their meals and she picked out their streaming programs to watch. 

There were moments when she could see Bellamy coming through, like how he would guide her through a door with his hand on the small of her back or smiling at her when he’s reading a book while she paints. 

One night, she wakes up to the feeling of his fingers deep inside of her, his hand palming her breast, and kissing her neck. 

“He’ll notice the black out,” she moans.

“He’s offline doing he daily memory dump, it’s just you and I in this moment,” Said Bellamy pressing her g-spot and making her cum. 

He climbs on top of her and lets out a groan as he slides inside of her, “So good, you feel so good, I just want to stay inside you forever.”

“More,” she moans as he began to thrust inside of her.

Somehow, this time is more intense than the first. She knows its Bellamy this time and she wants more of him. She swaps their positions and kisses down his chest to his penis and takes him into her mouth. He lets out a cry as she takes him as deep as she can. She spent the last few days thinking about doing this to him and hearing his whimpers of pleasure while his hands grip her hair. She wants to do things with him she’s only ever dreamed of. She wants to submit to him and make him submit to her.

He pulls her off before he cums and forces her onto her hands and knees and takes her from behind as he grabs her hips, “Uh, it’s like you were made for me. You take my dick so well, such a good girl. Gonna fill you up with my seed, watch you grow large with my child,” he pulled her up so that they were both on their knees on the bed facing her bedroom mirror, “Look us together, Clarke, remember these moments if my plan doesn’t work. Remember me,” he says kissing her neck and cupping both her breasts in his hands as he thrusts into her from behind, “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she cries as he rubs her clit and she comes and he releases deep inside of her.

He passes out shortly after and she gets up to clean them off this time.


End file.
